


Duty to Skyhold

by RubyMagnolia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Breast Expansion, Breast Inflation, F/M, Inflation, Lactation, Lactation Kink, Large Breasts, Milking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:31:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4840751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyMagnolia/pseuds/RubyMagnolia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a disturbing lack of mother's milk for the babies of Skyhold, so Adaar and her head healer come up with a plan to ask volunteers to donate their milk. After drinking a potion to stimulate milk production, Adaar finds that her Tamassran heritage has come in handy. She's surprised when Cullen approaches her and finally admits his interest in her.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15060.html?thread=58540244#t58540244">Kinkmeme Fill</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Idea

It was an unfortunate situation, Adaar thought to herself. The mothers simply weren't producing enough milk. The healers had informed Adaar that they had tried several options, including changing diets, nursing more frequently, moving the mothers to a quieter spot in Skyhold to rest, potions to help increase supply – everything they could think of.

"What about wet nurses?" asked Adaar.

Although she hadn't grown up under the Qun – her family had fled long before she had even been conceived – Adaar found the concept of Tamassrans interesting.

"The passage to Skyhold is perilous in winter. They won't make it in time, Lady Inquisitor," said the head healer, Tam.

"And what if we had volunteers within Skyhold?"

Tam paused, her eyes focused on the ground but her mind elsewhere. 

There were plenty of women in Skyhold that could help. Especially if Adaar dug out that old notebook her mother had given her that was full of old knowledge and remedies that she had come across in the Qun and fleeing the Qun. She was certain there was a potion in there that could help.

"That could work. I'll make a notice and see if we have any responses," said Tam.

"I volunteer," said Adaar. "It's only fair, since I suggested it."

"Are you sure? I mean, you're so busy already, Lady Inquisitor," said Tam.

"Of course," said Adaar.

She stood up and pushed her chair in, smiling at the healer. The elf looked relieved, one more problem on the way to being solved.

"Was there anything else?" asked Adaar.

"Not at the moment," said Tam.

Adaar gave her a sharp nod and left the infirmary. She'd find the notebook immediately and hope that it didn't need obscure ingredients to work. She didn't mind – even if the potion didn't work on her, at least she had the potion recipe to give to Tam.

•

Three stirs clockwise, then let sit until cool and consume within a day of brewing. Almost as easy as making a cup of tea.

Adaar sat cross legged in front of her small iron cauldron, wooden spoon in hand, ingredient pouches and bottles scattered around her in the order that they needed to go in. There was a small globe of fire under the cauldron, sitting in a stone dish that she had designed for the very purpose of not having to set up a fire in the actual fireplace.

Some mages preferred to stand up whilst making their brews, but Adaar preferred to do it the same way her father did.

She stirred three times, flicked her wrist to extinguish her flame, and started to clean up her mess. Tam had approved the potion, saying that she had seen something similar but not as powerful as this Tamassran one allegedly was. It was safe at any rate.

When the potion cooled, Adaar dipped a cup into it and drank it. There was a sweet aftertaste, like a peach, and Adaar drank a second cup. It would take up to three days for anything to happen, and maybe more than that for her to start producing milk. In the meantime, she would keep making the brew, and hope that it took to at least one of their ten volunteers.

Satisfied that she had brewed the potion correctly, Adaar poured the rest into a bottle and sent it down to the healer for the volunteers. She still had to clean out her cauldron to be ready for tomorrow.

Later, she went down to the volunteers and spoke with each one privately, detailing what side effects they should look out for, and which ones were to be worried about. There were two elves, three dwarves, and five humans in the group. Each one was as concerned as Adaar felt about the mothers without milk. Undernourishment would kill a baby, or leave them sickly for the rest of their childhood, and potentially their adult lives.

"Thank you for answering the call," said Adaar. "It's an unexpected need, but a need nonetheless."

The volunteers nodded.

•

Adaar woke up with her hands on her chest and an unfamiliar tightness in them. She sat up, finding her nightdress fuller than when she had gone to sleep, her breasts having swollen in the night.

She rubbed at them gently, and there was a pang of tenderness. A tweak at one nipple through the cotton of her nightdress released a spot of milk, turning the fabric wet. Adaar gasped, then pressed at her other nipple to make sure that it wasn't a trick of her mind.

It had worked. It had worked and she was producing milk.

Quickly, Adaar pulled out the pump that Tam had given her, putting a sucker over each breast. Adaar muttered a spell, and the suckers latched on, and started to pump into a bottle attached at the other end. She muffed a squeak of surprise at the strength of the pump.

Slowly, the bottle started to fill with milk. At about a quarter full, Adaar ran dry, and she removed the pump. Apart from her thickened nipples, there was hardly a noticeable difference in her breast size now that she had pumped herself. Slightly bigger, but only something that someone who had been observing her breasts would notice.

Adaar washed up and dressed, liking the slightly more snug fit to her shirt, and took the bottle of milk downstairs.

Tam was surprised, to say the least. The elvhen volunteers had also been pumping, the dwarves had been noticing a swell but no milk, and the humans hadn't had a result yet, but were hopeful that something would happen soon. Adaar's gaze dropped to the elvhen. On such tiny bodies the changes were obvious, even though they were producing less milk than Adaar. Their tight robes were stretched, their breasts nearly human sized.

Tam was pleased, collecting the bottles. She then passed out fresh cups of the potion, although Adaar refused, preferring to make her own.

"Were the instructions clear enough?" asked Adaar when the others had left.

"That they were, Lady Inquisitor. This is a good start, but we'll need more soon," said Tam. "I just hope that we'll have enough."

"Between the eleven of us, there should be enough success," said Adaar.

"And how was your pump?" asked Tam.

Adaar shrugged. Pumps were never as effective as a babe at the breast, but the pump this morning had been quite powerful.

"It's better than ones I've seen before. The activation spell is nifty," said Adaar.

"That was Dagna's idea," Tam replied. "She helped me make them."

Tam smiled sheepishly, as if she were about to be told off for asking Dagna's assistance when the dwarf was better off enchanting armour and weapons.

"She's a clever one, that Dagna. Carry on, I will be back this afternoon with another delivery," said Adaar.

•

The next pump had another quarter of a bottle. Disappointing, but only early days yet. Adaar brewed her potion, drank it down, and sent the milk to Tam, not feeling particularly chatty and wanting to be alone.

There was an odd sense of responsibility Adaar felt. It was Tamassran-like but not entirely. She wanted to nourish the children but not take them away from their mothers. She wanted the mothers to regain their strength and health, so that they might know the joys of their children growing up.

Tam may have thought it odd, but Adaar knew this instinct and desire came from her mother, who had been a Tamassran before fleeing the Qun, and the catch-all village mother when she had eventually settled in a secluded valley with her sarebaas husband. Mother Adaar had always been so tender, and caring, and Father Adaar had dove into the healing arts as soon as he was free, determined not to be a weapon for anyone.

Adaar was determined to make her family proud. Making milk was only one way that she could keep Skyhold from falling apart.

She pulled on a loose nightgown, tucking her breasts into the cups, and decided on an early night.

•

The first thing Adaar felt was that the straps on her nightgown were cutting into her shoulders. There was considerably more of her jutting out from her chest, and Adaar's breasts quivered slightly as she took a deep breath to calm herself.

She grabbed her pump and slipped it on, the tubes joining between her breasts and running down to the bottle. The pressure that Adaar had only noticed because of the release, made her squirm. Her hands came up to grasp her expanded breasts to massage them.

The bottle was nearly full when Adaar finished milking herself. She wondered if the others had reaped such sudden and massive results.

When Adaar reported in to Tam, there were five half-full bottles, the dwarves having come into milk that morning. It still wasn't enough but it was proof that it worked.

As Adaar left the infirmary, she had to adjust her shirt, noticing that it was riding up to attempt to accommodate her increased chest size. Hopefully Josephine would let Adaar undo her buttons when it was close to pumping time. The diplomat had been uneasy about letting Adaar provide milk, but she had agreed.

"Hey, boss!" called a voice.

Adaar turned to the Iron Bull, who was lounging against the sparring wall. She approached him.

"Yes, Bull?" asked Adaar.

The Iron Bull opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped, sniffing deeply. Then he closed his mouth and stood up straight instead of lazing about.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to spar but you smell like Tamassran," said the Iron Bull. He glanced down. "You look like Tamassran as well."

"Is that a problem?" asked Adaar, narrowing her eyes.

"Not at all, boss," said the Iron Bull.

Adaar picked up a training staff and twirled it experimentally. Lighter than her own staff, but it would do. She tapped the Iron Bull on the shoulder with the end of it.

"I want to spar," said Adaar.

There was a tiny glint of fear in the Iron Bull's eye before he chuckled and grabbed a dummy sword. They headed to the ring. It was empty at this time of day, but as soon as they entered a small crowd gathered to watch.

Sparring with the Bull was always fun. He didn't hold back because she was a mage or the Inquisitor. He went full hog. They'd kept a score of who won, mostly by making the loser buy a round of beer for everyone in the tavern. So far, Adaar had bought six rounds whilst the Iron Bull had bought nine.

She ducked a swing, landing a blow as the Iron Bull recovered. Sometimes they got down to wrestling. The Iron Bull was a shit wrestler, although his size gave him the advantage of being able to sit on his opponents.

Adaar was momentarily distracted when one of her buttons popped open on her shirt. She received a hard knock to her side for her troubles. This wasn't really the best shirt to fight in, she thought, as another button popped.

By now there were bets going on around the crowd. More people had joined. Adaar spotted Sera and Cullen, and even Cole had slipped out to watch.

In a moment of frustration, Adaar grabbed her shirt and ripped it open to the button below her breasts, giving her some much needed breathing space. The Bull snickered. Adaar got him in the crotch with a stinging slap of her staff, then caned him across his back.

Grunting in pain, the Bull swung wildly at Adaar, but she had won by this point, running at him to grapple him into the ground, fake dagger tip of her staff under his throat.

"You don't have to buy me a drink," said Adaar. "Send it to Tam in the infirmary."

She pulled at her shirt and buttoned up the survivors of her frustration. Ooh, that was tight. She helped the Iron Bull up, and sent him back to the tavern.

Adaar didn't notice that Cullen was still watching, being nudged by a knowing Sera.


	2. Attention to Detail

He'd noticed. He noticed nearly everything about the Inquisitor. She was kind and generous and of _course_ it had been her idea. And of course she couldn't suggest something like that without participating in it herself. Her sense of fairness was too strong for that.

It hadn't taken long for the changes to set in. A few days. The spar with Bull was when it had become obvious, a peep of lace and dark blue silk appearing as her blouse tore its buttons free. Still, even though Cullen did notice most things about Adaar, he'd been mesmerised by the grace with which she moved before the lace. His brain had registered that her blouse was too small for her, but his thoughts didn't swing to that until that point in the fight.

And now that he had her glistening, heaving chest in his mind, filling with milk, Cullen couldn't shake it. He stowed it away for more appropriate times, but it was there at the edge.

When he had first met the Inquisitor, she was covered in gore, confused, exhausted, and extremely grumpy but still managed some courtesy and understanding to those around her. They were, after all, in the same situation. Everyone was as scared as she was.

Later, at Haven, she had shyly flirted with him. He hadn't expected an ex-mercenary mage to be shy. Yet he supposed she couldn't be confident in all areas. Cullen had foolishly stammered out a negative – despite the shyness, Adaar was an intimidating figure and he didn't know her that well. She didn't know him. It would only end in disaster.

Even then, Cullen had realised he'd made a mistake. The crestfallen look in Adaar's eyes was there for a moment and then masked.

She smoothed her robes down, moved onto the topic of training, and then left not long after for the Hinterlands. She had taken Varric, Cassandra, and Solas with her. When they got back, Adaar glanced at Cullen once after Varric had said something to make her laugh.

She hadn't flirted again. With anyone, really. Cullen knew of Adaar's playful conversations with Scout Harding, but they were just play. He'd overheard them in the tavern trying pick up lines on one another and discussing Harding's interest in another scout.

Cullen had to make a move at some point, instead of letting it fester. It had been months since they had settled in Skyhold. Too many months of not fixing his mistake.

When Adaar entered the War Room in the afternoon, she had replaced her shirt. It didn't stretch as much – she must have pumped herself, Cullen realised. He shook himself out of it before the meeting started, although he snuck looks at her throughout the afternoon and thanked the armour over his smalls but under his trousers for keeping his erection down.

Uncomfortable, but avoiding the potentially embarrassing situation he would have had to deal with otherwise.

When they finished their meeting, Adaar had unbuttoned the top of her shirt, and that frill of lace had reappeared.

"My apologies," she muttered each time she had to undo a button. "They're too big to fit when they're full."

Somehow, looking at the other advisors, Cullen thought that this wasn't really a problem, as Leliana secretly glanced down – thinking of the Warden, perhaps? – and Josephine had a flush to her neck.

When the meeting was over, Cullen stopped Adaar from leaving right away.

"I need to confirm a resource gathering expedition," he said. "The soldiers have asked for a list of things to look out for. And waxed boots if they are to go wandering around in marshy areas."

"Can this wait?" asked Adaar. "I don't know if you've noticed, but..."

She gestured to her breasts. The fabric was making gaps between each button, her breastband almost entirely exposed as her shirt was pushed to either side of her breasts. Cullen was amazed at how quickly they were filling up. He noticed some spotting on her blouse, damp patches where she was leaking, and he looked away.

His cock pressed insistently against his armour. No. Now was not the time.

"I hadn't," he said.

"You're lying," she said.

"Perhaps," said Cullen, and he made himself bring his eyes to hers.

They were a pale green, almost golden. Terrifying to look at in this instance. They seemed to demand the truth. Perhaps that was why Adaar was an excellent haggler.

"I didn't mean to. They were there. I apologise, Lady Inquisitor," said Cullen.

Adaar chuckled.

"If you are not squeamish about these being pumped under a blanket, then by all means, follow me to my quarters and we can discuss the expedition there," she said.

"I wouldn't be," said Cullen.

The gold on Adaar's horns reflected as she tilted her head, an amused smile on her face. She gently patted Cullen on the back.

"Follow me," she said.

•

Their private meeting went well enough, Cullen mused that night, sipping at a mug of ale.

It had been civilised. If Cullen hadn't known better, then Adaar wasn't pumping at all, with the exception of her pulling out a large bottle of milk from under the blanket she had draped around her. A servant came to collect the bottle and then it was all over.

He finished his ale, drew his coat about him, and went back to his office. Cullen had held back all day, thinking of cold water whenever his cock was a little too insistent and he could feel his armour trying to push forward in his trousers.

Locking his doors, he climbed up to his roost, and carefully undressed. It was chilly from the hole in the ceiling, but Cullen didn't mind.

Once undressed, it took a few minutes of wriggling around to make his bed warm enough that he wouldn't startle himself on a cold patch.

He imagined that Adaar was watching him, lying next to him. Maybe touching his cheek and hair, a kiss here and there, her large but long-fingered hands tracing shapes onto his skin.

Cullen's cock seeped out precum, liking this slow, detailed attention it was receiving, both of his hands fondling it, finding the tight band of skin between his balls and his shaft, rubbing it there, then sliding to the tip, playing with his head.

He imagined Adaar's nightgown, low cut and filmy, beginning to stretch, popping stitches as she filled up, her breasts so large that her gown was moulded to her and he had to press his mouth to the hard, sensitive nipples to relieve her.

Cullen came as he imagined milk coming through the fabric.

Quickly, he grabbed a cloth from his nightstand and wiped himself clean before he could stain anything, panting, and the vision of Adaar vanished, although the whispers of her presence in Skyhold hadn't.

•

After two weeks of solid production, Adaar had to leave Skyhold. Her milk left her as quickly as it had arrived, her breasts shrinking to their original size without even a hint that they had been plump with milk a few days prior.

By this time, it had become clear that the potion only worked on a few humans. Of the original five human women, only one of them had taken to the potion. One of the elvhen had stopped after developing a rash from the potion, and two of the dwarves had been cycled out to a field mission.

"Will it be enough?" asked Adaar.

Tam nodded, but she had a worried look on her face.

"They'll be struggling to meet the demands, but we can ration it out. I tried the potion, but it doesn't work on me," said Tam.

She glared at her chest in annoyance.

"And no other volunteers to take up the demand," sighed Adaar. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

She handed over the last bottle of milk, a miserable one-sixth full, and tried to leave with a reassuring smile on her face. They were almost back to square one. Adaar hadn't realised exactly how much more she was contributing to the daily food of the Skyhold babies.

"None of this is your fault," said Tam. "I'll keep asking around."

When Adaar rode out, she missed the weight on her chest.


	3. Tender/Full

Human clothes weren't going to be adequate. It was embarrassing for her shirt to be too small, and yet too big directly after she pumped. Adaar remembered a rather skimpy Qunari outfit she had once seen on some Tal-Vasoth – with some modifications, it would suit her situation.

When she passed through a village, she bought several lengths of fabrics. The merchants tried to discount the price but Adaar could see the crumbling walls and leaky roofs behind them, and paid extra. They were struggling. She was not. A few extra coins here and there meant that one more village could survive winter.

As Adaar's party approached Skyhold, the horns sounded. It was good to be home. Clean clothes, some extra luxuries here and there, and being back with the people she had grown to love and protect as she had with her mercenary group.

Tam was waiting for her – they had corresponded by raven while Adaar had been away – along with the remaining volunteers. There were two new additions, a dwarf and a human, who had taken to the potion well enough that there was only a small scarcity of milk. Four new babies had been born. One had been orphaned, intentionally, the mother leaving as soon as she was able to walk. There had been reasons for it, and Adaar did not think of this particular mother in bad light.

The advisors had also come to greet her, passing on reports and messages, nothing urgent to stop Adaar from a bath.

Adaar did not miss the focused attention Cullen was giving her. Interest? Or disgust? It felt like interest but how could it be interest, when Cullen had rejected her romantic intentions? She pointedly stared him in the eyes when he handed over his reports.

He seemed caught in that stare, a flush rising to his neck, tongue darting out to touch his scar, and then he turned away.

Carrying her papers up to her room, Adaar pondered that look of excitement and fright. He was such a pretty human. And tiny. Or perhaps tiny to her. She had seen human women approach Cullen and they were shorter than him.

She had seen his hair in its natural state, once, coming from the communal baths. It was tightly curled, the loose pieces bouncing as he marched back to his room. No doubt he used some sort of oil to loosen and style his curls. Adaar found it a shame that he so aggressively pursued straight hair.

This she contemplated whilst bathing in her room. She was afforded the luxury of bathing alone if she so wanted, although she usually went to the communal baths. Tonight, however, Adaar wanted to be alone.

She towelled herself down, wrapping the fluffy fabric around her chest, and sat down with her potion gear. It was usually very dangerous to be potion brewing in the near nude, but Adaar had no interest in getting dressed yet and the potion only required low heat.

While it had been nice not to worry about pumping, Adaar was looking forward to having milk again. After this, she would go down to visit the babies, their mothers, and speak with Tam about their requirements.

The liquid of the potion let a tension roll from Adaar's shoulders. It felt like a cool touch at her shoulder blades, stroking her spine against the fire of her skin. Before Adaar had realised, she had drunk all of the potion in her cauldron, including the serving she had intended to save for after breakfast as a booster.

Not that it really mattered. If her milk came back earlier than expected, then they would have extra for the children.

•

Cullen was on his way out of the infirmary from his weekly check-up when Adaar brushed past him. She nodded cordially, he nodded back. To think that he had ruined his chances with this woman! Not even rested from her journey, and here she was, checking up on the children. It was a task easily left until morning. And there was his report tucked under her arm, along with Leliana's and Josephine's.

It didn't look like Adaar was planning on sleeping. They should have held off giving her their reports. Adaar was going to burn out if she wasn't careful.

He had to stop her. On impulse, Cullen turned around and sat on the bench for waiting patients. She'd come back out and he'd convince her to sleep.

Tam's voice lilted over the sounds of coughing and sneezing, but Cullen couldn't make it out. The husky common tongue slipped from Adaar, too deep to know by anything but the rumble.

Half an hour passed, then an hour. The dinner bell rang, and some of the healers went to fetch the meals for the patients and themselves, yet still Adaar didn't emerge. Another hour passed, and most of Skyhold had eaten. Cullen was feeling conspicuous sitting on the bench.

But it was for Adaar's health. He'd wrangle the papers off her if he had to.

Finally, she emerged, but she was not alone, a large swaddling in her arms and Tam beside her.

"The strain was too much. It was down to losing both of them or losing the mother," whispered Tam. "And the little one hasn't learnt to take the bottle yet, so he's been feeding off directly from the teat."

Adaar stroked the swaddle's face with the back of one finger. Cullen noticed that her claws hadn't been trimmed in a while, and so handling a baby was done with intense delicacy.

When she handed it back, he spotted the little grey face. A Qunari baby. But there were only two Qunari here: the Iron Bull and Adaar, although she was technically a Vashoth. The Iron Bull hadn't been in Skyhold long enough to impregnate a woman, so the woman must have come from outside.

"Poor thing. Hopefully I shall be producing tomorrow morning," said Adaar.

She spotted Cullen and tilted her head. Distracted from Tam, Adaar gave the healer a vague farewell and stalked over to Cullen.

"Are you feeling unwell?" she asked.

"No," said Cullen, startled into action.

He stood, eyeing off the reports. Adaar must have noticed, because she untucked them and flipped open the folders.

"I haven't had a chance to read these yet. You said there was nothing urgent," said Adaar.

"There isn't. Which is why I feel I should have mine back so you're not tempted to read through the night, Inquisitor," Cullen said.

The folders closed with a slap. Cullen winced. Maybe he had insulted her.

But then the folders were thrust at Cullen and Adaar gave him a sheepish smile.

"You know me too well. Return them by morning, though. I cannot afford to fall behind."

"Yes, Inquisitor," said Cullen.

"And thank you. For being concerned," she said, slipping past him – it was getting late, and the trip had exhausted her.

Cullen smiled back, but only when she was already walking away. Perhaps his fumble hadn't been quite the disaster he thought it had been.

•

When Cullen rose that morning, he had expected to drop the reports off and that would be the end of the matter.

There was a soft moan from inside. Cullen almost dropped the papers. It sounded like Adaar was in pain. When the second moan came, he unlatched the door and slipped inside, dumping the papers on a little table by the door. He dashed up the stairs.

"Inquisi-" he began, but cut himself off.

She was asleep. Tormented by a demon? Or injured? Either way, he had to get closer.

Adaar's eyes snapped open as Cullen brushed a hand over his arm, clutching at it instead of giving into the urge to clutch at Adaar to find her injury or pull her awake.

"Commander?" she mumbled.

She sat up. The problem became obvious as the sheet slid off. Cullen backed away.

"I heard you moaning. I thought you were hurt," stammered Cullen.

Her nightgown was damp, making the fabric stick to her skin, translucent. Her breasts leaked, and Cullen could see the darker colour of her nipples. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes.

"I apologise, I'll be leaving. The reports are on your table by the door," he said, backing up one small step at a time, in case she felt like reaming him out.

"No!"

The reply shocked both of them. Adaar was still sleepy, surely, but when Cullen lowered his hand slightly, her eyes were clear. She had brought her hands up to peel her gown off, but it restuck.

"No, please. Stay. I need help," said Adaar. "I wasn't expecting this."

It was true. She had literally doubled in size overnight, turning tender. The pump was too forceful when she was this sore. And it would be easier to hold on the suckers whilst someone else massaged them.

"Lady Adaar, I could not. I'll send Healer Tam up-"

"I can't wait that long," said Adaar. "It hurts."

Cullen swallowed. Then he nodded. This was a terrible idea, but he would have fled if he didn't agree to it. He approached Adaar, who was sliding the fabric of her nightgown from her shoulders, wincing as it snagged on her breasts.

Up close, Cullen could see they were huge. Taut. Leaking. He had the sudden desire to put his lips to one engorged, hard nipple and drink, but Cullen pushed the thought away.

Adaar held the suckers onto her breasts, not activating the magic to make them stick. She was quivering.

"Please massage me," said Adaar.

The skin was as taut as it looked, firm breasts giving slightly to Cullen's touch. Adaar gasped, milk squirting into the suckers and down the tube.

"Use your whole hand, not just the fingers," she ordered.

He cupped her. Kneading upwards, Cullen coaxed more milk from her. Adaar's lashes fluttered, trying to stay open but the relief overwhelming. Her tiny gasps and mewing assured Cullen that he was doing the right thing.

Already that painful tautness had subsided, Adaar pressing more firmly into his hands. She looked at his large, callused hands, then to his face. This was intimate. The flush on Cullen's neck told Adaar that he knew this was intimate. Whether it was from arousal or embarrassment, she couldn't tell.

"That's enough," she said.

Cullen let go.

"You're not empty yet," he said.

"The pumping spell will take care of the rest," said Adaar.

"Yes, Inquisitor."

They stared at each other. Cullen was reluctant to leave and Adaar didn't want him to go. Yet if he didn't want to be here, then she didn't want to keep him here. The desperation of ten minutes earlier had faded, her milk at an acceptable level and tenderness quickly fading.

"It's Herah," said Adaar suddenly. "Call me Herah. You did just milk me, after all."

"Of course," said Cullen.

He didn't make any moves to leave.

"Did you want to finish?" asked Adaar.

"Yes," blurted Cullen.

She let the suckers attach, but not pump, and took Cullen's hands, placing them against her chest.

"Finish, then."


	4. Evening

Helping her dress was something Cullen hadn't thought about except in his imagination. He helped her with her nightgown, taking it off all of the way, and then washed off the milk that had dripped down her body.

They hadn't had sex, although Adaar had noticed the effect she was having on him. They didn't have time for it. They wanted their first time to be something more than a quick fumble.

Adaar knew about his armour trick – if she looked closely enough, she would see if his armour had shifted or not, whether he was hard or not. They both found it thrilling, Cullen being able to be hard and leaking under his armour without anyone else knowing.

So now Cullen was dressing Adaar, and she was reading a report.

"Will we need to construct another training circle?" asked Adaar.

Cullen wiped the cloth across her stomach, then her thighs.

"At the rate the army is growing, yes. The mages have slowly come to terms with being combatants," said Cullen. "They rather like learning how to defend themselves without magic."

He didn't add that they were inspired by Vivienne, Dorian, Solas, and Adaar. Vivienne had even taken some apprentices, a few mages in training to become Knight-Enchanters. There had also been a burst of renewed interest in necromancy, much to Dorian's delight, and Cullen wasn't entirely certain, but Solas seemed to be pleased about a flock of magelings interested in Fade magic following him around.

"I'll see what we can do to make a magic-proof ring for stray spells," said Adaar.

She was absorbed in the papers again. When Cullen started to dress her, she barely noticed, except to lift her feet as he slid on her underwear. Black, with lace, cut in the style of shorts. He found the biggest breast band in her drawer, and put her arms through the supporting loops, and clasped it at the back. When he ducked around, it looked too small.

Adaar looked away from her reports.

"This won't do. Points for effort, Commander," she said.

She undid the band and put it back into her drawer, finding a band that Cullen had overlooked for its complexity. The supporting straps – string really – crossed over at the front and the back, a tiny padded triangle for each of Adaar's nipples. It was grey and old, with flecks of brown that Cullen suspected was dried blood.

"It's clean," she said, addressing his horrified expression. "And it's the only one I have in this style."

"Will it be sufficient?" asked Cullen. "It's tiny."

"It goes under this," said Adaar, holding up a blouse that didn't have much more fabric than the breast covers.

Cullen recognised the style being Qunari, but like the breast covers, he had no idea how it went on. The fabric was a crushed silk in wine-red, matching the accents on the skirt that Cullen was holding.

"I made these while I was travelling. In anticipation for milking," said Adaar. "I forgot to make some breast covers but that will be easy enough."

The fabric crossed over Adaar's breasts, then came around at the back to cross again, like a halter-neck of some sort. She put her usual cropped jacket on over the top, but there was still a lot of skin on display.

Cullen held out her skirt for her to step into, doing up the buttons at the back, and then wrapping her sashes around her waist. Adaar added her belts and pouches, and finally she was dressed.

"Buttoned or unbuttoned?" Adaar asked, pulling her jacket closed and then open.

"Buttoned. Best to ease us into this new look," said Cullen. "Josephine might have a fit otherwise. She still might."

Adaar chuckled.

"The stress we cause that poor woman. I'm going to give her a pay rise after winter," she said. "Now go be where you need to be, Commander. I have milk to deliver."

•

In retrospect, Cullen regretted the buttoning decision. He could tell by the way that the jacket was pushing out that Adaar was filling with milk, but his curiosity about her new top was left unfulfilled. How exactly did it accommodate such rapid changes in Adaar's body? How was it able to give so much support?

And then her jacket would stop pushing out, and Cullen knew that Adaar had pumped herself, and that there were children growing stronger because of her.

She came to him after dinner, a bag in her hand.

"Is this a good time?" she asked as he looked up from paperwork.

The candlelight illuminated her in golden light, making her appear as she had in his fantasies. Cullen bit back a squeak as his cock hardened, and nodded.

"I have some forms to sign and deliver, and then I will be yours for the night. If you so desire," said Cullen.

"Only if you desire it," said Adaar.

He pressed a hand to the crotch of his armour, shifting as his cock pressed against it.

"Yes. I'll be ready in ten minutes," he said.

Adaar made a beckoning motion for him to stand up, and reveal that subtle clue Cullen was trying to make comfortable. He did, and her eyes dropped to his trousers.

"Good show, Commander," she said. "I'll be waiting upstairs."

She climbed up the ladder, and Cullen sat with a heavy thump, eager to finish his paperwork.

•

The excitement in Cullen made Adaar shiver in delight. He was interested. More than interested. The tightness in her chest had to be dealt with first, but as he had proven that morning, Cullen was an expert at making the massage pleasurable.

She had already drunk her brew for the milk, and then another brew to prevent pregnancy. Her horns were capped in silver tonight, keeping the sharp tips away from delicate human skin.

Adaar set the pump on his bedside table and laid on his bed, on her side. He had said ten minutes, but she knew it would either be shorter or longer, depending on how caught up Cullen was with his arousal. Either way was flattering – quick to come up to please her, or so distracted that his paperwork took longer to complete.

As it turned out, he was shorter. Which was probably a good thing, as the fullness of her breasts were beginning to pass into that tender stage, everything straining to contain her.

"Hello," she said.

The apple of Cullen's throat bobbed as he paused at the top of his ladder. A moment later, he was striding across to her, peeling away his coat, gloves, and chestplate.

He held her face when he kissed her. Adaar liked this gentle kiss. No pressure to open her mouth, just a kiss on the lips, and Cullen pulled away.

"Hello, Herah," he said.

Adaar twisted up, sitting against his pillows. She put her hands through his hair, ruffling it out of the perfect waves pushed away from his face. Ah, yes, now he looked slightly ravished.

"Care to help me pump? I am at capacity, as Tam would put it," she said.

She arched her back, feeling her jacket tighten as she presented her chest to him.

He started to unbutton her, and his tongue licked his scar. He had done that the other day as well. It had to be a nervous tic or something that he did unconsciously.

"It's a good thing you're not bigger, otherwise I would have had to snip the buttons off," said Cullen.

One layer of tension was free. Adaar looked down and shrugged out of the jacket. They were impressive breasts. Captured in the pleated silk, they heaved up, and smoothed out the pleats at the biggest point. Cullen went red, but it quickly faded, and he stroked along the fabric, finding a place to lift it up and push it to the side.

Adaar helped him, pulling the fabric down so that she spilt over the top, engorged breasts squirting into the triangles over her nipples. If they had seemed small that morning, they were even smaller now.

While it was true she had expected size, Adaar hadn't expected this powerful of a result.

The triangles were damp when she touched them, Cullen watching intently.

"I'll slide the suckers on underneath, and then you can pull the string," said Adaar, pointing to the straining bows on her shoulders that kept the triangles in place.

Cullen nodded, shuffling closer so he could pass Adaar the pump. One hand went to her waist, the other to her leg as he waited patiently for Adaar to attach the suckers. She winced.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, tender. Like this morning. Mm, I'm good," she said.

Cullen kissed her forehead as he plucked the strings and Adaar felt her chest swell forward against his. He dropped his hands to grope her cautiously. They both jumped when milk spurted from her nipples.

The pressure of his hands soon started the relief that Adaar was craving, this time peppered with kisses as scattered as Cullen could managed whilst not letting her breasts go.

"Are they heavy?" asked Cullen.

They were. Adaar thrust herself more firmly into his hands, milk still squirting. If she wanted to get a good night's sleep, then she wanted to be completely empty.

In a sudden move, she pulled Cullen into her lap, pressing a hand to the small of his back so that he pushed his groin against her. He was still partially armoured, but she intended to fix that once the milk was expelled.

The bottle was nearly full, but Adaar still had more to give.

"The other bottle, please, sweet Cullen," she whispered.

"Of course," he said, stretching out to grab the other bottle.

The motion made him press further into her lap, her hands patting his ass. He had a good ass, Adaar decided, and kept touching it until she had to swap the bottle over.

She corked the full one, and Cullen put it out of harm's way.

His touch wasn't as feather-light, barely sinking into full breasts. She was emptying and becoming more malleable, more fun to play with. Soon they would be able to send the milk down and have the rest of the evening without having to have a pump between them.

It heated her core to think of it, her nipples hardening.

Finally, she was empty.

Cullen took the milk bottle down to a messenger, being in a more respectable state of dress than Adaar, and then climbed back up, eyes wandering over her body as she wandered with hers.

"Cullen, you did so well to milk me," she said. "Now let me milk your seed."

There was the bulge of armour again. Cullen was easy to arouse. Or perhaps it was easy because he found her appealing. Adaar smiled and wrapped her arms around Cullen as he sank into her lap, his breathing betraying his desire.


End file.
